Coord Poppen Caspers (1881–1965) and Mary Agnes Pfeiffer ran a dairy farm in Bay City, Michigan. The photographs and Carol’s recollection are the public story.
Childhood recollections — my paternal grandparents’ home
Carol Kay Caspers Crosby wrote this on Saturday, February 4, 2012.
Her first memory was as a toddler in the 1940s. She was the first grandchild on either side. They lived with her paternal grandparents on a dairy farm in Bay City, at the corner of Knight Road and M-15. The house, barns, and pasture were on the east side of M-15. The fields were on the west. Her grandfather also farmed other land nearby. The main crops were corn, wheat, oats, rye, alfalfa, sugar beets, and soybeans.
A large orchard sat between Knight Road and the two-story farmhouse, which faced M-15. Behind the house: a hand pump that had to be primed, an above-ground cellar/cooler, a small smokehouse, and a two-car garage. Down the driveway, about a block north, were two maroon-red buildings — cattle barn on the right, tool shed on the left. The tool shed held the machinery. The barn was split: hay and grain on one side, milking on the other. Cement floors, good for running. Behind the barn, fenced fields for the cattle. Between house and barns, a grove of large trees, possibly oak.
She loved the house — rooms, stairways, hallways. A covered porch ran nearly the south side, front to back. Rooms were spacious, ceilings tall. The back door opened into the separator room, milk and cream on one side, a big table, shelves, and a sink on the other. The bathroom was off that room. Then the kitchen, the width of the house: a huge wooden table at the north end, a large wood stove with two ovens on the west wall, a walk-in pantry, a coffee-bean grinder, Grandma’s wooden butter churn, and a steep back stair to the second-story living quarters. She liked that stair. It was dark and mysterious. She made up games about things lurking there.
Her fondest memories of Grandma were cooking and baking. She seldom measured. The food was the best. Carol tried the recipes later. Close, but not Grandma’s. The sugar cookies were never matched. When Grandma died the recipe was lost. Another favorite was sweet macaroni and tomatoes. A male cousin came close after years of trying.
Grandma was a stately 5'9". Grandpa seemed very short beside her. They were of German descent. They had moved to Michigan from Illinois. They raised six sons. Carol’s father was the second oldest.
Beyond the kitchen: a formal dining room, a small parlor with overstuffed furniture, the master bedroom with a white wrought-iron bed, and a formal living room used for special occasions — except that Grandpa went there to read his Bible. The Bible sat on a carved Chippendale table with brass claw feet holding glass balls. Carol asked if she could have that table someday. After they died, her father and uncles agreed. It traveled from Michigan to the west coast. She would sneak in and sit on the red velvet sofa, stroking it one way and then the other. The floor had an oriental rug. Windows had white lace curtains. Grandma kept a lace tablecloth and crocheted doilies under the knickknacks.
Years later the house was torn down. The sons built a new one-story house that was easier to keep. It was sad when the old house went. Then she found the new house held great times too. It was not really the house. It was the family inside.
Written by Carol Kay Caspers Crosby.
